In the Middle of the Night
by robotortoise
Summary: Boey wakes up in the middle of the night to yell at Mae. Loudly.


**Stargazing**

* * *

Mae and Boey were lying atop the lush green grass. The air smelled vaguely of sweet flowers, and the sky was alit with thousands of bright stars, each one as bright as the one next to it.

Both were lying down next to one another, their hands intertwined. Each took solace in the other's presence.

"Do you think they had families?" Mae suddenly blurted out.

Boey turned his head to look at her, his mouth half-buried in the grass. "Come again?"

"T-the people we killed. Do you think they had families?"

"I…" Boey paused, considering this. "Well, I suppose they must have. Doesn't everyone?"

"Yeah, but… Well, what if they were parents? Or they had siblings? Did… Are there children waiting for someone to come home that…won't? Because of us, of what we did?"

"I suppose that's very likely." Boey exhaled deeply, closing his eyes. "Mae, we are murderers. We may tell ourselves that we did this in the name of war, or in the name of Lady Celica, or…whatever justification we want to give to make ourselves feel less scummy, but make no mistake – we did kill people, and we are murderers."

A lump formed in Mae's throat, and she swallowed it.

"There's…no excuse for what we've done," Boey continued softly. "If there is a hell, we're going straight to it. But…damn it all, I'm glad that I'm going there with you."

Mae raised her head off the grass and looked at Boey quizzically. "I appreciate the lovey-dovey crap as much as the next gal, but…look, aren't we doing this to _save_ lives? Other than that pirate king, all of our battles have been in self-defense. If we'd been able to get to Mila without killing a soul, I'm sure Celica would have done that." She paused. "Except for the pirates. Those guys got what they had coming to 'em."

"No one 'deserves' death, Mae," said Boey. "Even if they're the worst person in the world, or a pirate."

"Boey," Mae said, "Do you know why the villagers are so afraid of the pirates?"

"Of course I do - I'm not stupid. They steal their valuables and make life impossible to live for those affected."

"The woman villagers, Boey," Mae said. "The pirates went on about stealing women. Why do you think they specified women?"

Boey swallowed the lump forming in HIS throat. "You don't think that they…"

"I think they did, Boey," said Mae quietly. "And they would have tried to take me and Celica. And Genny."

"Genny…" He frowned. "She's but a child!"

Mae laughed hollowly. "Do you think they care?"

Boey sat quietly for a moment, and she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I suppose there are some people that deserve death, then," he finally said.

Mae touched his arm, gently rubbing it. "If we're murderers, then we're murderers. But don't you _dare_ think for a second that those bastards didn't deserve it."

"But…what of the others we killed? Like the Duma Faithful…" Boey trailed off. "You know what? I just answered my own question. Never mind."

"Yeah…" She paused. "I gotta say that I don't really feel bad for the dead dying again."

"W-was there not a single person we killed that didn't deserve it? Surely, there had to be at least one…"

"I don't think so. I WOULD say the witches, 'cause they were sacrificed to Duma, buuuuuut they were already dead when we got to them. If anything, we probably released their bodies from eternal torment. So…nope. I got nothing."

"So, then… We…"

"Yeah, Boey. We're fine."

Mae squeezed his hand.

He grabbed her roughly and hefted her onto his chest.

She didn't complain.

"You know," he said quietly, "I don't think I've ever been happier for one to prove me wrong before. You absolutely destroyed my arguments… I have to say, I'm almost impressed."

"Well, you'd better get used to it, buster," she said, looking up at him and cracking a grin.

"Oh?" He smiled mischievously. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Noooothing," she said, and she snuggled deeper into his chest, planting the crook of her neck into it. "Mmmm…so soft."

"I am NOT soft!" he cried. He tried to push her head off his chest, but she didn't budge, remaining anchored in place. "I am muscular and hard, and I AM NOT SOFT!"

"Hee hee," she giggled. "You're not. You're a big softy, you softy." She pushed herself up and rubbed the top of her head all over his face.

He closed his eyes, secretly relishing in the feeling of her soft hair against his face. Of course, he couldn't simply admit to that. After she finished, she plopped her head back on his chest.

"You're soft and beautiful and I LOVE it," she whispered. She grabbed one of his arms and kissed it, still snickering.

He responded by planting his arms around her stomach, wrapping her up like the fierce bundle of joy she truly was.

"You love…"

"Love _it_ ," Mae corrected. "Don't get smart with me."

"Well," Boey conceded, "at least you think I'm smart."

"Yeah, in Dunceville. You're the smartest of the dunces. Heck, you're King Dunce."

"Well," he said slowly, "if I'm the king, then that makes you the queen."

"Queen? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that I want to marry the queen of Dunceville."

"W-what?" Mae's voice cracked.

"But only because I'm going to use her for her political standing. You see, her family is from the town of Idiotsburg, and I need the political clout if I wish to succeed as the king."

She frowned. "You know, I can kick you in the nards, like, super easily right now."

"Alright, alright. You win, queenie."

Mae sighed contentedly. "Hey, Boey, what were we even arguing about before?"

"It doesn't matter," he said. "You assuaged my fears."

He was not the only one that was soft, he realized. He squeezed her tighter, and she sighed pleasurably.

"Stop using big words," she said, her voice a whisper. "You don't sound smart."

He responded by stroking her hair, and the two of them laid like that, content.

After a short time passed, Boey heard a loud, obnoxious growl – he lifted his head up, trying to find the source – perhaps a wild animal was nearby, or –

He looked down. The only wild animal was the one lying atop him, her snore as loud and obnoxious as a snore could be.

But…gods help him, it was the sweetest sound that he'd ever heard.

Within moments, he, too, was asleep.

* * *

Author's Notes: I wrote this on a slow work day...at work.

I dunno what drew me to this ship, but god damn... I'm hooked.


End file.
